George Gordon Noel Byron

There is a tear for all who die,
A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
- Lord read more

There is a tear for all who die,
A mourner o'er the humblest grave.
- Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),

A mere court butterfly,
That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.

A mere court butterfly,
That flutters in the pageant of a monarch.

How lovely he appears! his little cheeks
In their pure incarnation, vying with
The rose leaves strewn read more

How lovely he appears! his little cheeks
In their pure incarnation, vying with
The rose leaves strewn beneath them.
And his lips, too,
How beautifully parted! No; you shall not
Kiss him; at least not now; he will wake soon--
His hour of midday rest is nearly over.

Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure;
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.

Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure;
Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure.

Rough Johnson, the great moralist.

Rough Johnson, the great moralist.